


Sick For You

by alecgbane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Jealous Sirius Black, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Matchmaker James Potter, Matchmaking, Oblivious Sirius Black, Remus in another relationship, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alecgbane/pseuds/alecgbane
Summary: Remus is sick all the time, Sirius takes care of him and James has a theory.
Relationships: Benjy Fenwick/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 120





	Sick For You

It is a joyous, beautiful day, Sirius thinks, with its chilly wind that hits him straight in the face and the hovering dark clouds threatening to burst in any second. He is the only wanderer in the open-air grounds of Hogwarts, which he believes to be outrageous, being a fine day as it is. Sirius will never understand why people prefer to sweat under the sun instead of letting the cold, comforting breeze make a pleasant shiver travel down their spines.

Besides, it also allows him to wear his esteemed and recently purchased leather jacket, which had earned him the impressed nods from his friends plus the furious and distinctive yelling of his _(not)_ beloved mother.

Sirius walks back inside the castle. As enjoyable as the weather is, the company of his fellow Marauders would always be the best option when dark thoughts loomed in his head. He runs into McGonagall, who squints her eyes at him, probably waiting for a huge, thoroughly thought prank to happen at any moment, though the only thing that awaits for her is Sirius’ wide smile.

He nods his head and keeps walking, his empty stomach rumbling in protest. He remembers the chocolate frogs scrupulously hidden in the bottom of his trunk and he bites his lip in anticipation.

He arrives at the crammed Common Room and spots James and Peter in front of the yearned fire. He struts after them, ignoring the penetrating stares from a group of fourth-year girls. James grins at him – as he always does when Sirius enters the room - and puts the gold snitch back on his pocket. Peter raises his eyebrows at his flushed cheeks.

“Outside?” the shorter Marauder asks, his hand pointing at the chess figure in front of him, which moves compliantly at his master’s flick of his wand.

“Lovely day,” Sirius states, taking off his black scarf and leaving it on the only free chair, probably being methodically shielded by his two friends, waiting for either him or Remus to show up.

“It’s freezing cold,” Peter offers as a counterargument, though Sirius dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

“Where’s Moony?” Sirius inquires and gazes adoringly at the snow starting to fall, adorning the large windows. Peter scoffs and James turns to him slowly, still grinning. Sirius feels the obstinate stares of those girls on the back of his head.

“He was not feeling well,” James informs him, politely removing the smirk from his face. Sirius frowns and checks his mental calendar, realizing they still got twenty-four days until the next full moon, meaning Remus’ indisposition surely is not related to it. “He is upstairs.”

Sirius immediately gets up and his head rushes, the room unexpectedly spinning. James chuckles, Peter snorts and Sirius ignores them, choosing for it to be the best moment to depart. He climbs the stairs two at a time and barges into the room, his grey eyes raptly looking for his friend. The search is not a long nor hard one, as Remus is clumsily sprawled on his bed, his eyes open but vacant, staring at the bloodshot ceiling.

Remus looks horrible – and that is a thought not usually present in Sirius’ mind, when in reality he tends to think the complete opposite. Nevertheless, anyone who looked at him would say the same. There are dark, huge bags under his eyes and his nose is as red as the curtains. His lips are partly open and Sirius can hear his ragged, high-pitched breathing sounds.

It had seemed a good idea, to come to his friend’s aid but now that he is here, Sirius does not appear to be able to move from his spot at the door. Their friendship remains civil yet strained, still suffering from the consequences of Sirius’ reckless, regretful thinking at the time that he had sent Snape down to the Shrieking Shack. Remus had forgiven him, or so he had said, but that does not mean that it is all back to normal, although Sirius wishes it was.

They talk to one another in the presence of James and Peter, mostly to indulge them in some drama-free time, as last year had been full of it. It is a completely different story when they are alone, though. Those occasions are rare and only happen when they are truly unavoidable. They are full of awkward silences and rushed glances when they think the other is not looking.

Sirius is always looking.

He strides towards Remus, who had yet to acknowledge his presence. He kneels beside him and touches the werewolf’s face with one of his hands, the other grasping the draperies to steady himself. He gasps at the heat radiating from his friend’s skin. Remus flinches and moves away from his touch. Sirius worries at his lower lip and stares at the heavy-lid eyes under him.

“What are you doing here?” Remus manages to say, his voice hoarse and it seems like every word means a great effort to be uttered. Sirius tilts his head and plays with the end of the quilt Hope Lupin had given a stubborn Remus who refused to concede he suffered from low temperatures more than the average human being.

He is at a loss of words and the bedroom seems smaller and hotter all of the sudden. Sirius darts his tongue out to wet his lip and he notices Remus following the movement with intent eyes. His voice looks for freedom once again after a full minute. “James said you were not feeling well and I came to check on you.”

It feels _weird_ , talking to Remus on his own. It breaks Sirius because it should not, not when they had been best friends for six years now and knew each other as much as they knew themselves. And it is all his fault, Sirius thinks darkly. He knows it is too late and that what he did cannot be changed but, _oh_ , there is nothing he wishes more than it.

Remus closes his eyes and breathes out, tiredly. “I’m fine on my own. You can go.”

Remus is being adamant, as he always is when he is sick, but Sirius knows better than to believe his friend will not welcome his help. He learnt it last year, after their fifth full moon together as the strangest pack ever consisting of a furious werewolf, a giant black dog, an imposing stag and a minuscule rat. It had been a rather calm night, running across the forest, scaring countless of rabbits off. Prongs even had had the audacity to cock an antlered head at the centaurs. However, no matter how tranquil they were, there were always scars. That night, there had been an especially long one across Remus’ back, like a huge scratch. It had been faintly bleeding and Sirius’ instincts had kicked in, making him walk closer to his friend and point his wand at the scarred backbone. Remus had protested when Sirius had tried to tend his other wounds but had ultimately let him do it, not so secretly pleased to not have to do it himself to spare his ears from Madame Pomfrey’s worried words.

“Of course you are,” Sirius blatantly lies, his voice regaining composure. “But you don’t have to go through this alone.”

His statement is a bit dramatic, Sirius knows, but at the same time, it is the most honest and heartfelt thing he has said ever since his numerous apologies to Remus after The Prank.

“Do you fancy a cup of tea?” Sirius asks, not waiting for an answer and summoning his cauldron. “ _Aguamenti_ ,” Sirius whispers and then heats the copper container, waiting for the water to boil. The animagus walks to Remus’ trunk, in which he knows he stashes several tea bags and a small jar of honey.

“ _Accio_ mug!” Sirius howlers and a white ceramic cup stops in front of him, suspended in the air. He speculates from where it came from but lets the thought go, sitting down and preparing the infusion.

Remus accepts it, rolling his eyes and carefully sitting down. He sips the drink and hums as the hot beverage fills his body. Sirius smiles in victory and takes a seat at the end of Remus’ bed, his hands placed carefully on his sides as to not touch any part of his friend’s body.

“Thank you,” says Remus with a grateful but small smile. Sirius returns it.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Sirius replies. “Is it a cold? Or is it Moony related?”

Remus sniggers. “Just a cold. Madame Pomfrey already gave me some PepperUp Potion in the morning but she told me that I should take another dose at 4 p.m.”

“It’s 5 p.m.” Sirius reveals with a laugh. Remus groans and makes an unsuccessful attempt to get up. Sirius shakes his head and arises. “Were you already feeling like this in the morning?”

“Y-Yes,” Remus says throatily, sneezing several times in the process. “You’d know if you hadn’t missed breakfast.”

“It’s Saturday, Moony!” Sirius whines. “I’ll go fetch the potion and then I’ll give you some chocolate. What do you say?”

Remus bares his teeth at him, making Sirius bark a loud laugh. He climbs down the stairs swiftly, ignoring James calling after him and thankful for the staring girls being finally gone. He had never made it to the Infirmary this quick before. Madame Pomfrey casts a wary look at the panting boy. She refuses to give him the potion at first, suspecting it is going to be given a mischievous use. Sirius convinces her that it is actually for Remus. If anyone asked, he would never admit to having used his infamous puppy eyes.

He makes it to their dorm even faster than to the Infirmary and once again ignores his bespectacled friend. He finds Remus still sitting down, the cup of tea warming his hand. He looks a bit better, his face transporting more colour than before but Sirius doubts he feels any healthier, his miserable expression proof of this.

“Here,” Sirius hands him the potion and Remus takes it obediently, grimacing at the sour taste. At once, Sirius rummages through his own trunk until he finds his cherished chocolate frogs. He takes out two of them and offers one to Remus, who receives it appreciatively. Sirius takes a bite of his own.

Remus moves and stares pointedly at him, an open invitation for Sirius to sit down next to him on the bed. Despite his nervousness, Sirius obliges. Their bodies are touching, from shoulder to toe and Sirius’ dizziness has nothing to do with a cold. It is the closest they have been since a long time and Sirius had almost forgotten how soothing Remus’ presence is.

Remus grabs a book from under his pillow and opens it, setting his bleary eyes on it. After some minutes, he growls in frustration and tosses the book to the end of the bed. “I can’t even read! My eyes hurt.”

“I’ll read to you,” are the words that emerge from Sirius’ mouth. He wants to hit himself, certain that his friend will laugh at his suggestion and dismiss it. Instead, Remus turns his shy eyes at him and raises an eyebrow.

“Really?” the werewolf asks, hopeful.

Sirius does not answer but scrambles inelegantly to get the book. He opens the bookmarked page and stares at the text. He starts reading and suddenly the story captures his attention and he recites it passionately.

Remus watches him the whole time, attentively. He offers his comments every now and then, especially when the bizarre boat trip is revealed to have been just a dream all along. Sirius finishes reading and lowers the book, yet Remus keeps staring at him, a weird look in his eyes.

Sirius runs a hand through his growing dark hair and imagines himself leaning in. They are so close that if he did, their lips would almost touch and without warning it is all Sirius can think about and he feels himself doing it, leaning in, looking for Remus’ tempting lips.

“I need to sleep,” Remus blurts out and Sirius is sure that he hears the panic in his voice. The animagus backs away and eventually leaves the bed, standing uneasily in front of Remus. He tries not to think of what he would have done if Remus had not interrupted him, but to no avail. It is all he can think about. “Thank you, Sirius. For taking care of me.”

* * *

A week passes and Remus is back up to no good again, feeling much better than last weekend. The dynamic between Sirius and him changes drastically, which comes to a great surprise to James and Peter, who had thought all that The Prank stuff was finally over. Sirius has the strange feeling that it is not about that anymore but due to the animagus almost kissing Remus, who had been – obviously – not so keen on his friend’s advances.

Sirius spends most of his time with James, who seems annoyed at the group being separated once again, as it had been at the beginning of Sirius and Remus’ falling-out. The bespectacled boy says nothing but keeps glaring at him with narrowed eyes, as if he knew something. It would not surprise him – James often reads him like an open book.

The four of them spend Sunday afternoon at The Three Broomsticks, partly deserted because of the freezing temperatures. Sirius wraps his leather jacket tighter around him and glances at Remus, who had been staring at him but quickly moves his eyes, flushing after being caught. He is shivering despite the warm fire lit in the corner of the pub and Sirius notes he does not have his cloak on him, probably having forgotten it back in their dorm.

Sirius turns around and tries to focus on James’ storytelling of how Lily – once again – rejected his advances, though according to their oblivious friend, she had done it in a much softer tone. James claims she is warming up to him but Sirius believes he finally lost it and Peter and Remus, based on their raised eyebrows and derisive smirks, agree with him.

“I heard she is dating that Fenwick guy,” Peter states timidly, watching for James’ imminent reaction to his words. The latter turns around to set his wild eyes on the smaller Animagus, so quickly that his neck cracked.

“What!? The Ravenclaw guy?”

Remus scoffs loudly and presses his lips to the butterbeer bottle in his hands. “Benjy isn’t dating Lily.”

The three Marauders gawk at him, confusion plastered in their faces. “Benjy?” Peter asks with wide eyes at the same time James howlers “Really?”

Remus rolls his eyes at them. “Benjy is… already involved with someone.”

“Who?” James inquires. “How do you know?” Peter wonders with squint eyes. Sirius just sighs and takes a mouthful of his own bottle. Remus has the decency to blush this time and Sirius grits his teeth, an odd sensation filling his body, which out of the sudden feels uncomfortably hot and not thanks to the fire nor the warming spell.

“Moony…?” James insists at his friend’s utter silence and tenacious blush, which combines with his Gryffindor scarf. James’ eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes, resembling a dying fish. “Moony!”

“Shut it!” Remus murmurs frantically, leaning close to the three of them. “You can’t tell anyone!”

“Who would we tell?” Sirius speaks for the first time but is ignored. Remus had not looked at him ever since Fenwick came up in their conversation.

“Moony… he is a bloke,” Peter states uneasily. Remus rolls his eyes dismissively but Sirius sees his hands trembling against the table. James is staring at Sirius with a knowing expression on his face. He disregards him.

“I know,” Remus says, his voice as low as a whisper and shaky as a leaf. “I was… I was going to tell you but…”

His voice dies down and the look on his face reminds him of the one he had when they had confronted him after discovering he was a werewolf. He is afraid, Sirius realizes. He wants to get up and shake the boy, trying to make him understand that there is nothing wrong with him.

There is also a flutter in his chest and Sirius is torn between jealousy and delight. Benjy Fenwick suddenly becomes as unpleasant to think about as Snape but knowing that Remus fancies boys… it is a welcome discovery, one that makes him giddy and nervous – a good kind of nervousness, the same one you usually feel knowing something good might happen.

“I fancy blokes _and_ girls. I’m sorry I hid it from you guys but I’m coming to terms with it myself, so…”

“It’s ok!” Peter stutters a bit too quickly, his face red but a comforting smile set on it.

James places a hand on Remus’ shoulder and the werewolf partly relaxes. Sirius does not speak but his eyes are trained on him, confident they are expressing everything he is dying to say.

“So, how serious is it?” James asks with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It’s casual. You know, we are fooling around,” James wolf-whistles at the same time the bells chime and the hostile voice of Mulciber reaches their ears. He is jubilantly reciting another attack on a muggle-born and his friends laugh scornfully. Sirius’ blood boils when he recognizes one of them and his grey eyes find an almost identical pair across the room. Regulus blushes and turns around, the smile gradually fading off his face. Sirius gets up, leaving a galleon on the table and, after offering his friends an austere goodbye, leaves the pub.

Snow is falling and the extremely and infrequent low temperatures this early in December welcome him outside. Sirius walks slowly, kicking the abundant fallen snow that comes his way. He does not hear someone running towards him and only notices Remus behind him when he clears his throat. He is shaking and Sirius stops dead, the werewolf bumping against him.

“What?” Sirius asks, voice coloured with bewilderment. Remus flushes, or maybe it is the same blush he had when talking about Fenwick, Sirius does not know.

“Are you ok?”

Sirius shrugs and hits another small mountain of snow, which ends on Remus’ shoes. He shakes it off, saying nothing. Sirius stares at him sheepishly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Remus raises a single eyebrow and Sirius realizes he cannot lie to him or play dismissive. It is always like this, Remus will each time see past whichever façade he has on and it is something that thrills him yet at the same time scares him. It is similar to what he has with James, but not the same. James empathizes with him but sometimes he does not understand him. Remus, though, gets him. Sirius always wonders if it is because they both had not so perfect lives.

“I don’t understand why it affects me. I know who his friends are. I know how he thinks. But, still... I think a small part of me believed that he wouldn’t turn up like them, you know?”

Remus says nothing, his gentle eyes placed on him. An intense, frosting gust of wind strikes their faces and Remus shudders involuntarily. Sirius rolls his eyes and takes off his leather jacket, placing it on his shoulders. Remus only stares at him and Sirius can feel his hard breath. If the village was quieter, Remus surely would hear his trumpeting heart. It is an intimate moment, one that Sirius wishes never finished but with full knowledge that it cannot last forever. Not when they were in the middle of Hogsmeade, prying eyes everywhere. Not when it meant so much to him and probably nothing out of the ordinary to Remus.

"This should make you proud of yourself," Remus says, putting on the jacket. It is a bit too big for him, since Sirius is all muscle where Remus is almost flesh and blood. Sirius forgets for a second what they are talking about. The only thing he can see is the boy in front of him, with _his_ leather jacket, wearing it as if it were his second skin. Sirius begs his heart to stop jumping in his chest and does not trust his voice to not embarrass him any further, as the blush in his cheeks is already doing. “You two were raised by the same people, yet you chose the right side. He didn’t. That’s on him.”

Sirius knows. James had said it too, as well as Peter. He even had said it to himself several times, every time he ran across him or received a nasty letter from his family reminding him how despicable he is and how perfect Regulus is.

But they do not know – none of his friends know. They do not know of all those nights before Hogwarts both brothers spent together, how close they were. Regulus would laugh at his jokes and secretly agree to a 10 years old Sirius criticizing their family’s antics. Nobody knew, because he had not told anyone but Regulus was not their parents, Sirius knows. But then, why would he insist on acting as if he were? Why would he gather around people like Mulciber, known for his only goal being to join Voldemort as soon as he leaves Hogwarts? Why would he now hang with Bellatrix and Narcissa, making fun of Sirius and not the other way around, just like in the old days?

Sirius knows why, deep down, but he refuses to acknowledge it, the truth too much to bear. He smiles at Remus and fixes the jacket collar, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary. Remus flushes beet red and something flips in Sirius’ stomach. Out of the blue, Benjy Fenwick’s face appears in his mind.

Remus and Fenwick.

He lets go of the piece of clothing as if it had burnt, which makes Remus frown. “So, you and Fenwick? I should have known you dig brainy people.”

Remus laughs, his blush subsiding. “It’s casual.”

“I know, you said.”

“I just think it’s important that you know.”

“Ok.”

They stand there, awkwardly. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius sees James and Peter getting out of the Three Broomsticks. They catch his eye and his best friend raises an eyebrow at him, his eyes behind his glasses glinting with something Sirius cannot quite decode for the first time ever.

“Shall we?” Remus asks, pointing his eyes at the way back to the castle, his hands on Sirius’ leather jacket pockets. Sirius nods and starts walking, the other two Marauders quickly catching their pace.

* * *

Sirius wakes up to Remus coughing stridently. He groans and rolls around in his bed, face pressed hard against the pillow, forcing himself to fall asleep despite the obnoxious sounds in their dorm. In addition to Remus’ noisy misery, James and Peter are talking annoyingly loudly and Sirius wonders if he could get away with his three best friends’ murder. He is an extremely smart man, if there is anyone who can pull that off, it is him.

“Shuddup,” Sirius mumbles. Remus, whose bed is right next to his, stares at the raven-haired boy with wide, watery eyes and offers him an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry, Pads,” Remus says, voice hoarse. “I think I’m sick again.”

Sirius, admitting defeat, gets off his bed with a punctuated groan, as if wanting to make clear his dissatisfaction with the situation. _It’s bloody Sunday_ , Sirius thinks, _I should be able to sleep until noon if I want_.

“That’s because you refused to wear your coat yesterday,” Sirius states sullenly and is proud to see Remus blush under his harsh stare. James and Peter, seemingly over with their conversation, are getting ready for breakfast. Sirius forcefully grabs a piece of clothing his best friend picked up from the floor. “James, you tosser, that’s my shirt.”

James sticks his tongue out at him. If Sirius were in a better mood, a war of who could annoy the other the most would have already started but Sirius is extremely moody and just walks inside the bathroom.

As he brushes his teeth, Remus walks in, slowly and uneasily, as if it is too much effort to even stand up, holding his clothes close to his chest. Sirius glances at him out of the corner of his eye until Remus finally moans in pain and the Animagus lends him a hand, helping him steady on place.

“Really, Moony. You are supposed to be the sensible one from the four of us. How is it you are such a stubborn git that you don’t wear your damn coat?”

“I forgot it!” Remus replies and only earns rolling eyes from Sirius. “By the way, I left your jacket in your trunk. Thank you for giving it to me.”

Sirius knows it is in his trunk, yet he cannot make himself grab it. It will probably smell like chocolate and that jasmine cologne Peter had gifted to him as a joke but Remus had loved so much. Sirius agrees, it a great cologne, which is now all over his jacket and he knows that as soon as he puts it on, his brain will turn off, as well as it had when he smelt the same scents in the Amortentia potion Professor Slughorn had shown them at the beginning of the year, realizing that he is, indeed, deeply in love with his best friend.

Sirius nods. “Thanks,” he says as he watches Remus trying to put on his trousers. “What are you doing? If you are sick, stay in bed!”

Remus looks up and Sirius sees he is biting his lower lip. His stomach churns. “I’m hungry.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I’ll bring you something to eat and I’ll see if I can nick some PepperUp.”

Remus smiles, pleased, and discards his trousers on the floor. Sirius tries not to stare at the pantsless retreating boy but fails miserably. It is a normal thing between the four of them, to walk around in just their underwear. Mind you, Sirius finds himself strutting completely naked around the room more often than not. Yet, seeing Remus – who was once so shy to expose his scarred body – like that makes Sirius think about things he is purposely trying to hide in the darkest, farthest corner of his brain.

He walks out the bathroom and leaves, reassuring Remus that he will be back immediately. James stares oddly when Sirius seizes several toasts and tells them he is not staying because of Remus. Pomfrey frowns at him for several minutes before she finally gives him the potion. This time, puppy eyes were not necessary, thankfully.

* * *

Sirius did spend time in the Library, contrary to popular belief. Not as much time as Moony but definitely more than Prongs and Wormtail. Still, spending more than two hours there must be some kind of personal record. There is no particular reason for it, except that he is enjoying the muggle novel in his hands way too much. It has nothing to do, of course, with Remus sitting a few tables away from him, not alone.

Sirius stares at Fenwick over the top of his book, his eyes narrowed. He is doing nothing wrong yet he is able to make every single hair on his body stand on edge. They are whispering at each other, Remus casually looking back in case Pince is near them. Remus is smiling – all small and sweet – and Sirius’ throat is dry. It is the same smile he has often offered to him and never, not that he knows of at least, to James or Peter. Benjy has a too-familiar glint in his eyes – adoring. Sirius has the same when he stares at the werewolf, James had once jokingly told him.

Sirius knows he is only torturing himself, yet he cannot help but often find himself where the couple is. It is not like he does it on purpose – not really – but his feet are traitors and one moment he is wandering without destination around the castle then suddenly he is in the Library, in a deserted corridor or a secluded spot outside only the Marauders know of and Remus and Fenwick are always there.

The first time he saw them kiss, Sirius wondered if his cousin Bellatrix was behind him and had hit him with the Cruciatus curse. He remembers all the air leaving his lungs and everything hurting.

There is something intoxicating about seeing Remus kiss, though. It gives him the material he needs to imagine how it would feel. Before, Sirius always imagined Remus being a soft kisser, even shy. However, he found out Remus kisses passionately, even when he does it languidly. Sirius has to remind himself that there is a wolf inside the man after all, although it seldom seems like it.

The dreams are unbearable now that he has seen him in action. In them, Remus and Sirius are always kissing. Sometimes it is just that but in others, Fenwick is there. In the strangest one he has had so far, not only the Ravenclaw guy appeared, but also his mother, father and brother, all scowling at the pair, insulting them.

Sirius closes his book with great force, wishing for the intruders to leave his mind when one of them looks up at him. Remus is glancing at him, apparently noticing his presence for the first time. His eyes are wide but otherwise steady and gentle.

Sirius rushes out of the Library but not soon enough as to avoid hearing Fenwick snort.

* * *

“Sick again?”

It is the last Saturday before they leave for Christmas break and Sirius finds himself in the same situation he has been in for the last two weekends. Remus is pale, groaning in his bed with Sirius rushing to him, putting a hand against his warm forehead.

James is staring at them and Sirius, who has telepathically communicated with his best friend since they were twelve years old, instantly saw the knowing gleam shining in his dark eyes. Sirius leaves with the promise of yet another PepperUp potion and some toast and James follows him, hot on his heels. Sirius only stops when he is outside the Infirmary and his bespectacled friend bumps into him, glasses falling to the floor.

Sirius looks at him picking them up with raised eyebrows, leaning against the cold wall behind. Honestly, Sirius sometimes does not understand how he is so gracious during Quidditch when outside the pitch he has constant trouble controlling his limbs.

“So, Moony is sick. _Again_.”

It is not a question and the last word is said a bit like an accusation, so unlike James. Sirius is dying for a fag and is about to offer James to go outside for one when he remembers Remus, on his bed, sick. Again – it is James’ voice in his head that says those words.

“So?”

James is the one who raises his eyebrows now. The chaser always envied Sirius for how good it made him look and how stupid James seemed when doing it. “Seems weird, even for him.”

“He gets cold easily.” Sirius wishes James made his point and left. He had promised to be back as quickly as he could.

“That’s the lamest excuse you could come up with.”

“I’m not coming up with anything! Get to the damn point, Prongs!”

He is breathing hard and fuming. He never gets angry at Prongs, not _real_ angry, at least. He knows there is nothing for him to get mad about but suddenly events of the last weeks weigh on him. Remus, Fenwick, those stupid dreams, Regulus. It all feels too much and here he is, being a dickhead to the only person who has always been there for him.

“Ok, I will,” James says, no heat on his voice. Sirius, hot-tempered and reckless, envies him for it. “I think he is pretending. At least these two last times.”

His eyes snap from the spot on the floor he was ogling, violently. James pays him no mind and keeps talking, his voice loud enough for only him to hear.

“He only seems to start feeling bad when you wake up and it’s always on weekends. Convenient, huh?” James is smiling now, admiringly, and Sirius want to punch him straight on the face.

“Why would he pretend to be sick in front of me?”

“Because he wants you to play nurse on him.”

Sirius’ face flushes. “Why?” He asks, feeling stupid and helpless. He sees where the conversation is going and wishes it did not, not ready to face his feelings, not ready to think there is a slim chance Remus might feel the same.

“I mean, Moony is a genius! Do you think I could do the same with Evans? Finally win her over while I’m on my fake deathbed?”

Sirius breathes. This conversation is almost as painful as it had been seeing Remus and Fenwick kiss for the first time. “One, Evans would hex your bits off if you tried that,” Sirius says, trying to sound nonchalant. “Second, why… why do you think it’s the same… Moony and I and you and Evans.”

James looks at him as if he were the most stupid creature ever. Sirius kind of agrees. He does not need to answer, as Sirius reads the expression on his eyes as _“Isn’t it obvious?”_

It actually is but it is also too good to be true and Sirius is a firm believer that, although his life is not perfect – far from it, if one considers his abusive parents – he has been lucky, he is well aware of it.

He has loyal friends who endure his crap, a second set of parents that love him for who he is and not resent him for it and he has a roof over his head after running away from the place he will never be able to call home. For all of this, Sirius is also a firm believer that life can never be _that_ good. So, back in the beginning of their Sixth year, after the _Amortentia_ fiasco, he realized that it was life’s way of telling him “ _gotcha!”_ because there is no way, absolutely no way, that Remus would ever like him back.

Or maybe there is and that is what James is trying to tell him.

Sirius, never having backed away from a challenge, is going to find out for once and for all. Never mind the great possibility of getting his heart utterly broken by the boy he had crushed on for three months now. After all, if he were to think things thoroughly, he would not be Sirius Black.

* * *

Sirius gets back to their dorm, now empty except for the sick boy on his bed. He stands still on the door for several minutes, until Remus looks up from the book he is reading and smiles at him, a quizzed beam set on his eyes.

Sirius observes him – not as he does when he is daydreaming, but does it meticulously, as if looking for answers. He compares his appearance to when he was sick the first time. Sure, the dark bags under his eyes are there, but they always are. Moony would not be Moony without a fucked up sleeping schedule. The red, bleary eyes are missing, though, as well as the heavy and scruffy breathing. He is also reading, Sirius notes, which he had not been able to do the first time.

The potion in his hands feels heavy all of the sudden and Sirius wants to talk, but no words are willing to come out of his mouth. Remus is getting worried now, so Sirius obliges himself to put on a big smile and walk over to his – presumably – ill friend.

He touches his forehead. Warm, but Remus always is warm, too. A contradiction, really, since he suffers from the cold like nobody else. He hands him the potion and watches him carefully – surely Moony would not be so stupid to take medicine he did not need, right?

Then it hits him.

Last time, he had not seen Remus drink the potion. He had given it to him, sure, and Remus had made ugly noises because of its horrid taste. But Sirius had not seen him, as the werewolf chose that exact moment to ask him for a sweater from his trunk, which had completely obstructed his vision.

Remus had already been wearing a sweater.

Sirius feels giddy. If James is right, then what does it mean? Is Remus just having a bit of fun? He is a marauder, so that should not surprise Sirius. But why him? Why wouldn’t he also have fun with James and Peter? Does this mean what James thinks? Does Remus really enjoy Sirius taking care of him?

Sirius remembers the first time, how he had leant in and how Remus had pulled himself away from him. If Remus likes him, then why did he do that?

There are so many questions and he knows the only way to get them answered is to ask Remus, but suddenly his Gryffindor courage leaves him and his throat feels dry and the room feels smaller and James is a dickhead, for getting ideas like these inside his mind.

“Pads?” Remus asks, sweetly and so Remus-like. “Lay down with me?”

 _Fuck_ , Sirius thinks while he obliges, _fuck, fuck, fuck._ Their bodies are touching and then Remus is moving and facing him. They are still touching; chest to chest and _– for Merlin’s beard,_ Sirius screams internally – groin to groin. Their feet tangle and Sirius will die right in the spot if they keep doing this silent and excruciating dance.

“Drink your potion,” Sirius says.

Remus widens his eyes. “Sure. By the way, would you mind…”

“Getting whatever thing comes across your mind from your trunk? Yes, I do mind. Very much. Now, drink your potion.”

Remus dares to look offended and Sirius would have punched him if it were not because he looks so damn good while doing it. “Padfoot, what the hell?”

“Are you sick?”

Remus flushes and coughs and then talks. “Of course I am!”

“Are you?” Sirius insists, boring his grey eyes on his friend. “Because I have this theory you are totally faking it.”

“You have a theory?” Remus asks, eyes narrowed and voice cold.

“Well… James has and I think I support it.”

“You support it?”

It is the most stupid conversation he has ever had with Remus. Sirius sighs and runs a hand across his face, exasperated.

“Yes, I do. Moony. Why are you pretending to be sick? Are you having fun watching me play nurse? I was really worried, you know? And do you have any idea how hard it was to get Madam Pomfrey to give me the potion? I had to use my puppy—”

The sentence is not finished, as Sirius cannot keep talking, having Remus’ mouth pressed against his own. For a moment, Sirius has no idea what is going on but then he feels the tentative flicker of Remus’ tongue and Sirius gives in. He is happy to, of course, and soon their mouths are moving fervently against each other and Sirius is grabbing the back of Remus’ neck, while the other boy has his hands deep under the great, luscious mass of hair on Sirius’ head and they move, their bodies oddly but amazingly synchronized. Sirius jerks his hips and his groin slides wonderfully against the other, eliciting a deep groan from Remus’ mouth.

Remus moves away and Sirius whimpers because it cannot be over, not yet, not when Sirius was about to tell life _gotcha!_

“I am not sick,” the werewolf admits, a coy smile on his swollen, red lips. “I wasn’t sick last weekend, either. I was the first time, though, and you took care of me and it was beautiful. We hadn’t talked properly for a long time and it just… it felt so good. I’m sorry I freaked out when you were going to kiss me. I was not prepared. I guess I started to pretend to see if you’d try again.”

Remus is offering him the explanation he had demanded only mere minutes ago, but the Animagus finds out he does not care, not now, when he knows he has full permission to Remus’ lips, the same ones he had been dreaming of every night, the same ones that…

“Fenwick,” Sirius spurts out and Remus raises an eyebrow. “You. Fenwick.”

“I told you… it was casual.”

“What about us?” Sirius asks, his voice small. Remus raises the other eyebrow and Sirius wants to kiss the smug expression off his face. “I mean… if we were to… if we…”

“Merlin’s hairy balls, I’ve rendered the great Sirius Black speechless.”

Sirius snorts, flushing, and punches him in the arm. Remus smirks. “Shut up, wanker.”

“Indeed I am,” Remus points out and Sirius blushes even deeper, unwanted yet delectable images filling his mind.

“If we were to be together, Padfoot, which I would like very much,” Remus starts, calmly. Sirius’ heart feels like it is going to burst. “There would be no Benjy, or no anyone, for a matter of fact. Actually, there already is no Benjy. We broke up the day you were in the Library. He knew I am a lost cause when it comes to you.”

Sirius does not know what to say but the revelation that Remus is no longer with Fenwick and that he wants to be with him feels like a thousand Zonko’s fireworks exploding behind his eyelids.

“You… you want to be with me?”

Sirius knows it will not be like the girl and boy couples walking hand-in-hand across the school grounds. Sirius knows they cannot indulge in that pleasure, not yet, anyway. But it does not matter, Sirius Black is not much of a romantic, nevertheless, and for all he knows, Remus isn’t either. He wants to be with him, not for the public displays of affection, but for the intimacy, the kisses, the companionship. He wants to be with him because it feels just right, like it was meant to be like this from the beginning, when they were only two eleven-years-old boys who knew nothing about life. He wants Remus and Remus wants him and it feels so great he cannot stop grinning.

“Yes,” Remus says and then he is kissing him again, sweetly this time. They pull away a long time after and they are both smiling now, as if they cannot help themselves.

“Prongs will be so smug about being right,” Sirius declares and Remus laughs, throwing his head back.

Later, during the First War, when life is no longer easy and has finally said _gotcha!_ , when he fears, deep inside him, that the man he loves had decided to betray them, he will use that memory of Remus with kissed lips and head thrown back in amusement to cast his Patronus.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you did, please leave kudos and comment!
> 
> Also, you can find me on Twitter as @remvslvping and on Tumblr as @wplfstar.


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